The Strength of Will
by Mrs Bella Riddle
Summary: In the forest, instead of a jet of green light, a jet of red escaped Voldemort's wand. Trapped, tortured and transfigured into something Harry could never imagine, it was never going to be easy for Harry to stay strong. No slash. Dark fic. Threeshot
1. The Curses We Fight

Now it is time for something a little different. This is my response to Harry the Snake Challenge on HPFC. The challenge was to write a fic where LV turns Harry into a snake and makes him his pet for a form of torture. It is dark and not pleasant. The very idea is to humiliate his enemy and ensure his loyalty, though more about motivation will be revealed when we get to Voldemort's pov next chapter. It will be short with the aim to focus on the points of change.

This will also be gen! There will be no ships and especially no Harry/Voldemort. If Voldemort tortures Harry it will be by curses and certainly no rape.

As well, I think the strangest part about this fic is me not only writing Harry pov, but enjoying it!

Finally, you may notice that the first line is directly from the Forest Scene in Deathly Hallows. This is the AU point and more details about this change will be revealed as the story goes on.

Enjoy!

* * *

_He saw the mouth move and a flash of red light, and everything was gone._

* * *

Everything reappeared as Harry came back into the conscious world. It was all cold. The stone below sent chills through him as his groggy mind tried to focus on any coherent thoughts.

It soon recognised the pain. Vibrations of red hot agony swept up and down his body. Automatically he tried to flinch. As he attempted to move his body, something struck him: He could not feel his arms.

His brain sent out waves to make them move, but nothing seemed to respond.

Instead, panic set in.

Harry tried to flail his legs, but even that seemed wrong. Something moved, but it was awkward. His joints just did not work and it felt like his legs were tied together. The last thing he remembered was being in the forest and Voldemort and his Death Eaters before him. He had expected a Killing Curse would have been unleashed, though the jet of red fired seemed more like a Stunning Spell. Did that mean he was now imprisoned by Voldemort?

He opened his eyes. It should have been pointless. He could feel his glasses were not on his face. He expected to be rendered blind.

He was not.

The room was almost entirely pitch black, but somehow he could see everything. The wall in front was lined with stone complete with deep etchings and blood stains.

For several moments Harry could not take his eyes off the marks until he finally turned to stare at the limbs he assumed were bound and the limbs he could not feel.

His neck seemed to twist more than usual to stare at the side of his body.

There were no arms.

There were no legs.

There was no chest.

There were no ribs.

There was no trace of anything human.

All he could see was the smooth and scaled body of a snake.

He would have screamed, but the only voice that escaped him was a long pained hiss.

Panic flared through him again.

He flayed widely. The long trail of his body flicked and flared. He circled the room frantically, but all that was there were four walls and stone floors.

He was trapped.

He was trapped as a snake.

* * *

Lucky, or perhaps unlucky for Harry, he was only left alone for a few hours.

In that short time he had not adapted to his body. However, when the hard wooden door slid open with a high pitched squeak, pure instinct and the little knowledge he had grasped, were enough to spring him into action. Raising his head, he opened his jaw wide and barred his fangs with a loud threatening hiss.

It did not have the desired impact. There was no fear or uncertainty expressed by the other man.

There was only a cold chilling chuckle.

"_Still as fierce as ever, Harry,"_ Lord Voldemort said softly in a language Harry could understand as he stepped silently into the dungeon. _"I am not at all surprised."_

Harry did not dignify him with a response. Lashing out, with little grace, he thrust himself forward and tried to sink his teeth into his enemy's leg.

He did not get very far.

When he was only a foot away, a curse hit his serpentine body and he was hurled into the back wall.

The contact vibrated through his body and knocked the breath from him as he fell in a tangled heap. He was tempted to attack again, but his beady eyes were focused on the knobbly elder wand. Instead he hissed softly in a clear threat.

He could have predicted the monster in front of him would not be impacted, but he had to try. He could not take this lying down.

"_Now, Harry, behave. We might be spending quite a bit of time together from now on."_ The Dark Lord's thin lips curled upwards in what might have been considered a smile only if someone had no idea what such an expression should look like. _"Your friends have made sure of that."_

The problem Harry had always faced was, no matter the circumstances, he always had a certain level of curiosity. He wished he could ignore Voldemort's words but a part of him longed for additional information. However, the difference was, he had no intention of admitting or revealing that to the other man.

Other than hissing softly in anger he remained silent.

"_So are you going to be like that, Harry? Tut tut." _Voldemort did not seem at all bothered. In fact he seemed rather at ease as he twirled his wand skilfully between long pale fingers like spider's legs. His good mood only made Harry more concerned. "_Hiding away your curiosity. I know you want to know. Even in the body of a snake you cannot hide anything from Lord Voldemort. Ask and I may tell you."_

Harry would not play this game. He refused to bend down to this monster's wishes. Instead he pulled himself up and lashed out again.

The result was the same.

He was thrown against the wall by the force of Voldemort's spell.

This time it felt like his scales were in fire. He twisted and hissed with pain as he tried to get away. Nothing worked until, suddenly, it felt like a bucket of water had been thrown over him and relief finally started to flitter through his body.

Blood red eyes that had previously been amused hardened into a furious glare that highlighted the extent of the Dark Lord's ability. "_Be careful. We will be spending a lot of time together now. It is wise for you not to anger me. Do you think it is coincidence you are in your current condition?" _He crouched down to his level. Harry longed for Voldemort to draw closer, but he kept a wise amount of space between them. "_I'll let you in on a secret- It is not. Your little friend Longbottom destroyed my precious Nagini and how could I last without a snake by my side? You will help me with that won't you Harry?"_

Too quick for Harry to react, Voldemort reached out and touched the top of his triangle head. Before Harry could even move to strike, the hand was away and Voldemort was half way to the door.

"_I will see you again soon, my pet, and, at that time, I hope you are better behaved."_

With one piercing red eyed glare, Voldemort closed the door filling the room in darkness once again.

Harry was alone and even more confused than before.

* * *

He was left to his own worries and woes for a whole other day.

Nothing ever changed. The darkness remained still as stifling as ever. It was silent within, though, outside, he occasionally heard the shuffling of people. He assumed he must have a guard outside his cell, but he was not sure why.

He also started to grow hungry. He was not knowledgeable about how often serpents needed to eat or drink, yet his body seemed to be telling him the gap was going on too long. The gnawing feeling continued though he tried to ignore it. He could not imagine Voldemort wanted him dead by starvation.

He would have more sinister intentions.

Harry was not wrong.

Harry was not sure exactly how long he had waited, perhaps it had been a day, but, after that time, the door opened to reveal Voldemort.

Just like before, he slid inside like a shadow with considerable comfort and ease.

Despite how tempted he was, Harry did not strike out. With his serpentine body curled in a ball that seemed comfortable, he raised his head and hissed in warning.

"_At least some improvement,"_ Voldemort murmured softly in Parseltongue as he stepped closer to the serpentine body of Harry. He tensed ready to strike. _"Are you going to behave?"_

The only answer he received was a furious glare.

Voldemort did not seem at all worried. _"No matter you will learn in time. Now."_A pale hand slipped inside the black fabric before something was extracted. It was small a little fury and, before he could help himself, Harry focused on it more intently: A mouse. "_I am sure you will be hungry."_

Disgust filled Harry. Did he expect him to eat a mouse? He would not. He was still a man. He was not a snake no matter what he looked like. He especially would not play Voldemort's game.

He stayed silent.

The man laughed darkly. "_Such defiance. How long do you think you will last without food? All you need to do is ask. Ask and you shall receive."'_

The silence continued.

"_If you insist." _There was just icy coldness between Voldemort who turned and left.

Harry would be strong. He swore he would.

* * *

For five days Harry kept his vow.

His knowledge of the time was still limited, but, from the large gaps and his increasing hunger, he assumed Voldemort must come every day. Voldemort always did the same thing. He was always icy cool and he would offer him a mouse.

Every time, Harry rejected him.

He still refused to speak. He wanted to beat down Voldemort's will even if he was not sure how long he could go without food.

Steadily Voldemort grew more frustrated.

Still, neither side relented.

At least until that fifth day.

"_Now, Harry," _Voldemort greatened, his voice filled with more tension as the door slammed closed behind him with a bang. _"Will you behave today?"_

Harry longed to refuse him. He wished he could stay there and sustain himself on his own will. However, every day he grew weaker and his worry increased for the others. Could he really stay here? All he had to do was ask. It was such a small thing to do.

He tried to glare at him. He tried to stare him down, but red eyes would never lose the battle so, instead, the triangle head of the snake moved up and down slowly.

Watching a vicious smile drift over his enemies face did not ease his misgivings. Unhurriedly Voldemort removed a nice plump mouse. Harry was sure if he was still a human he would be dribbling.

"_Just ask, Harry. Ask me for the mouse and you shall receive it."_

Harry had never actually spoken as a serpent. He had refused to say anything to Voldemort and he was the only one he saw. He had stubbornly refused.

Now he had given in.

"_I want the mouse," _Harry hissed as if on instinct. It came out easier than he would have thought. It did not even sound foreign. He supposed it was because he always had spoken Parseltongue.

His eyes remained rooted on the mouse rather than look up at Voldemort's smug face.

"_Say please," _he ordered his voice considerably more pleased.

Harry would have preferred to bite him. Instead he allowed the instinct to take over to gain what he needed. "_Please give me the rat."_

"_Good pet."_

The mouse dropped from Voldemort's hand and Harry latched onto it before it even reached the ground. In that moment he did not care that it was a mouse. He did not care that Voldemort called him a pet or treated him like one. He only cared about how the bones crushed between his sharp teeth, how the blood slid down his throat and then how the feeling of contentment settled over him when he swallowed.

It was not the only one.

"_Would you like another?"_

Having once tasted what he desired, he did not want to lose the feeling straight away.

"_Yes please."_

Mouse after mouse was thrown at Harry and he eagerly devoured each one on cue. By the end when he allowed Voldemort to tap the top of his head, his serpentine body was filled with mice and shame.


	2. The Things We Do

Here we have the next part featuring a little more of an explanation about why Harry is a snake and Voldemort attempting to manipulate Harry even more.

* * *

There were things about Harry Potter that had always been strange to Lord Voldemort. Somehow things had never quite fit. How could a boy with no exceptional magical talent ever avoid him for so long? He had assumed it was something to do with the prophecy; the little ball that had been shattered must have provided the answer.

However, he started to gather there was something more. Potter somehow had skills he never should including a gift for Parseltongue and an ability to see into his mind. Voldemort could sense there was something more. The connection was too strong and the pull to Potter's presence was more like how he had felt towards Nagini, his horcrux.

The relationship was too similar. The more he examined the issue, the more it seemed to suggest it may be the same with Potter. He could not imagine how he could ever accidentally create a horcrux, but, that Halloween Night so long ago, had been filled with so many events that could never be described. He certainly had split his soul when he had killed the Potters and, when he was ripped from his body, the remnants had been uncontrollable.

It was at least a possibility. In light of that, he had no desire to kill Potter and his possible horcrux. He might have been more persuaded, but Potter was now the only horcrux that remained; he had heard the diary was destroyed, he had seen the ring, locket, cup and diadem missing and then he had seen Longbottom kill his precious Nagini when they had attacked the castle. They had eventually been victorious in quashing the rebellion at Hogwarts, but the loss of his horcrux had impacted him more than he revealed.

So, until he could discover if it was safe to create a new horcrux, his last horcrux would be kept safe.

He could have kept Potter in a cell rotting away, but then he risked his Death Eaters overzealous torture killing him.

The loss of Nagini gave him another idea.

Potter could be kept with him. His previous enemy could be manipulated into something else. His preference would have been as a faithful follower, but that was impossible as Potter would never become loyal and he could never trust him to stand in line. He would need something to ensure Potter could be submissive and, at the same time, reduced as a threat.

He needed a new Nagini and now he had one. As a snake, no one could talk to Potter but him. He was free from any other possibility of interference and, because, as a snake, his ability to be a threat was minimised to nought. More than that, he knew he could manipulate the boy so he was mostly loyal.

It was already starting.

Voldemort lifted his scarlet eyes to the corner of the room. Trying to avoid his attention and refusing to look at him, the emerald green scaled body of Potter curled itself into a tight ball.

Smirking, Voldemort returned to stare into the flames.

It was so simple.

* * *

Harry had been in his cell for a month. He had eventually stopped trying to bite the hand that fed him and accepted his mice without fuss.

It did not mean he had given up his will.

At every point he longed for a way to escape and to return to being human so he could kill Voldemort like the bastard deserved.

However, he had grudgingly accepted the accommodation change.

After a month of waking up to stone walls, his eyes had opened to an antique and elegant room. It was covered in dark green wallpaper, cream trimmings and brown simple furniture. It was all extremely minimalistic as if someone did not really live there.

On that morning, he had been by the hearth. Curled within himself, he had woken to the feeling of a warm flame burning pleasantly next to him and, for the first time in a month, a woollen rug underneath him rather than hard stone

It had not meant he was pleased.

It had been an eerie feeling to know how easily he could be stunned and moved like he was a bag of bones rather than a boy or, rather, a snake.

The sight of Voldemort's snake like face had angered him as was the inevitable knowledge that this was his room and he would share it with him.

As always, he had tried to escape.

Over and over again, he had circled the room whenever Voldemort disappeared for wherever he went during the day. The first time he had been overjoyed to discover one of the doors slid open once he nudged it, but it soon turned to disappointment with the realisation that it had only revealed a bathroom.

When escape seemed impossible his next option was obvious: Revenge. Harry could never say he had thought much of it before, but it had been surprising to see Voldemort emerge from the bathroom one evening in simple black cotton pants and a long sleeved button pyjama shirt before he had moved into bed and settled beneath the covers.

It was the same this evening as he watched the whole scenario from the shadows as he glared up at his most hated enemy. For hours he waited until he assumed Voldemort must be asleep and it was the right time to strike.

Unwinding his serpentine body, he slithered along the thick woollen carpet, all the while his eyes focused on the quilt that covered Voldemort's sleeping form. He was close to the side of the bed so it was so simple. Drawing himself up to his height, he lashed out aiming straight for him.

It failed.

His teeth felt like they connected with an invisible shield before he was even five feet away. Like he was a tennis ball, he bounced back and landed in a crumpled heap beside the bed.

Hissing angrily in frustration, he glared up at Voldemort. Red eyes stared back at him in amusement as Voldemort turned away and went back to sleep with confidence.

Harry could have known Voldemort would have used some form of protection, but he had to try.

* * *

It was a mark of how long he had been trapped that Harry had already shed his skin. The whole process had been strange, but he had got the hang of it; it had almost like peeling away the skin of his old fingers. It had been weeks since that had occurred, though Voldemort still left the remains there. From what Harry could see from Voldemort's room, he did not seem the type to leave mess around. Harry could only assume there was a reason for his action, perhaps to mock him about how long he had been trapped.

To emphasise his powerlessness.

The only thing Harry saw was the confines of Voldemort's room which was as much a prison as the cell. Harry thought it was even worse when he was so close to his enemy who he could not harm no matter what he tried. Voldemort seemed even more arrogant about the entire situation. He would try to talk to him and, always, Harry would try and ignore him. He only failed when the topic was too intriguing for him to resist the temptation to inquire.

"_I heard about your friends today, Harry,"_ Voldemort said calmly in Parseltongue as he idly flipped through the Daily Prophet in front of the hearth. _"Do you want to hear how they are?"_

Harry wanted to bury his head in the carpet or even into his shredded snake skin, so he would not hear his words. Instead the words just seemed to echo in his mind.

"_Answer me, Harry,"_ Voldemort repeated fiercely. Harry tried to ignore him and continued to stare down at the fireplace he was close to. _"Do you want to hear about who is torturing your friends?"_

Normally he would have waited for a curse to make him answer, but Voldemort's words were more effective than any curse could have been. Darting up, he faced Voldemort boring his black eyes into Voldemort's face.

"_Tell me,"_ he hissed in Parseltongue. He wanted to leave it at that, but he wanted answers and there was only one way to achieve that. _"Please."_

Amused, Voldemort curled his lips up slightly. _"Good pet. Now come here."_

Extending his hand, Harry would have preferred to bite him, though, resigning himself to the inevitable, he slid closer as he eyed the long thin fingers. They crept closer and nudged the top of Harry's head in what could have been seen as a caress. It made Harry feel ill, though he allowed himself to be lifted onto Voldemort's knee. It was bony and chilly even through his robes. Harry wanted to dart off straight away, but he resigned himself to the unavoidable and instead sat tensely.

"_Since you have been good I will tell you."_ Harry wished Voldemort would not sound so smug and he wished he would stop caressing him. _"I assume you want to know about the young Wealsey boy and the mudblood?"_

Reluctantly Harry nodded quickly with his heart filled with anxiety and his mind filled with terrible images.

"_Bellatrix has them,"_ Voldemort replied calmly with a smile, but it only made Harry more terrified. Even though he was a snake, he felt ill as he tried to get away from Voldemort in protest. He was unsuccessful when hands clenched around him and he could not move an inch. _"She is treating them as a mudblood and a blood traitor deserve, but, as far as I am aware, they are alive."_

It made Harry feel a little better, though he still continued to squirm and to hiss angrily.

Coolly, Voldemort lifted Harry higher so only his tail was trailing on Voldemort's lap and his head was level with Voldemort's. He could not help but snap, though, as soon as he did, the place where Voldemort was holding him erupted in pain like he was burning. He tried to flail away as he it seared his skin and made him let out a pitiful whine of a hiss.

"_Behave pet,"_ Voldemort snapped like he was teaching a naughty dog. _"If you are well behave I may allow you to see them. Would you like that?"_

Harry tensed, yet it made him more comfortable and Voldemort's words repeated over and over again as the desire to see them fulfilled entered him. _"Yes, please,"_ he hissed quietly so as to pretend he was not being so obedient to his foe.

"_Good pet."_

That mocking smile was back. Voldemort placed him on the floor and he slid as far away as he could.

"_But you will need to do something for me,"_ Voldemort said simply as he remained in his armchair. Even as both stayed unmoving Harry felt the words fill him with dread. _"But you will won't you? You will Harry so you can see your friends?"_

* * *

Freedom had never been so welcome.

It was only limited. Sliding his serpentine body beside the long and swift stride of Voldemort, Harry knew he never had a chance of escaping since they were still only in Malfoy Manor, but it was a relief to see something other than Voldemort's room or a cellar. Every new portrait, every new piece of furniture and every flicker of natural light that fell upon him improved his mood.

Every time his black beady eyes looked up at Voldemort or he remembered why he was here, his heart plummeted to its usual rocky depths.

He did not know where he was going or what he was doing; all he knew was that he had made a deal with the devil to see and try to help his friends. He could never regret that action, but it did not mean it exactly pleased him.

It did not help that Harry had a vague idea where he was going.

As they moved on their path down the various stair wells, into the Entrance Hall and across the Drawing Room to the hidden staircase, Harry started to have an idea where he was going. It may have been months ago, when he was still human and Ron was still with him, but he recognised the path- he was going to the cellar again.

It appeared the same as when he was trapped here; it was still all blood encrusted stone and murky depths. The only differences were the lanterns that Voldemort enchanted to flare to life when they entered and the black robed body of a figure crouched against one of the walls.

As soon as they entered, he lifted his head, but, once he met the pitiless red eyes of Voldemort, his gaze shot back down in fear. Harry was not exactly sure who he was, but he somehow looked vaguely familiar.

"Master, please," The man whimpered softly as he stared at the dungeon floor before him. "I'm sorry Master. I'm sorry. It will not happen again. I ju- I just panicked and ran. Master –"

"Enough," ordered Voldemort his voice thick with authority like the crack of a whip. He spoke in English, but Harry was relieved that he could still understand the language. "No more excuses, Avery. That was your last chances. I do not grant mercy to fools who do not deserve it."

_That was where he recognised him_, Harry thought as he curled himself into a ball near the entrance to the dungeon and looked at the other man. Harry had seen his picture in the Prophet and through Voldemort's eyes, more than two years ago, when Avery had provided Voldemort with false information about the prophecy. However, it did not help clear up why he was here. If Voldemort intended to punish his follower why was he needed?

"_Come here pet," _Voldemort hissed as he switched to Parseltongue and turned his head slightly to Harry. _"You want to see your friends. This is your chance."_

With considerable reluctance, Harry obeyed; his head full of images of Ron and Hermione. For them it would be worth it. Reaching Voldemort's side, it was strange to not be recognised by the man. He only looked at him with fear.

Voldemort flicked his wand and the man in front of him was thrown onto his back and ropes emerged from nowhere to bind him tightly. Harry felt ill at the thought of what this might mean.

"_Kill him, Harry," _Voldemort said simply as if he was asking for a cup of tea. "_Do it to see your friends."_

"_NO!" _Harry cried out in Parseltongue, immediately twitching back from the figure. "_I won't!"_

How could he ever kill someone?

His enemy only laughed. _"You will. You want to see your friends do you not? It is simple. You have tried to bite me before. This is exactly the same. Sink your fangs into his side and it will be over."_

Harry did not care that it was simple. He could not kill anyone. He supposed he had thought about killing Voldemort, but that was different. He could hardly be classified as a person.

"_Do it!" _Voldemort repeated his voice forceful as his eyes gleamed in the dim lighting. _"Why hesitate? He is your enemy is he not? Besides if you do not kill him he will die anyway. Do this and you will see your friends."_

Over and over again Harry's heart screamed, '_No_'. It was so wrong to kill someone like this and to do it on Voldemort's orders was even more appalling. It was like he was one of his followers! Still, another part of his heart, the one that was focused on Ron and Hermione said, '_Yes'._ They were suffering. They were with Lestrange. He needed to see and help them somehow.

That side won.

With his mind focused on Ron and Hermione, he moved closer to Avery. He was screaming and withering, trying to get away from his fate. Harry wanted to let him, but he knew this was his only option. With a shuddering hiss, he closed his eyes and sunk his fangs into the man's flesh.

It was for Ron and Hermione.

It was only for them.


	3. The People We Love

A/N: Most of this I have had written for months, but I have had no excuse for how long this took. It is the last chapter. It was always meant to be a threeshot to emphasise the whole theme of this fic.

)o(

It was the first time Harry had been outside in months. The sun was high in the sky and shone down warming his scales and making his eyes gleam in the light. It would have been wonderful to stay outside forever rather than be confronted by the four walls of Voldemort's room day in and day out.

The pathway was long and extensive lined with yew trees, but Harry was grateful for the length. It gave him more time to think about what was ahead of him and more time to feel like he was free. The entire way Harry continued to remain at Voldemort's feet.

He had to play along if he wanted to see his friends.

Harry dreaded to think how Hermione and Ron would be. They had been in the clutches of Bellatrix for months and no one could be unharmed after such an experience. It terrified him, but he had to do something. There was still a chance they could be saved; even if he did not know how.

Reaching the wrought iron gates they remained closed. Voldemort stopped and turned back to him.

"_Come here," _Voldemort hissed softly as he lent down and extended his hand to the ground. "_Come here, Harry and we can apparate to the friends you most desperately want to see."_

Harry glared angrily, though he did what was required. Sliding to the hand, it felt strangely gently as it lifted him to the bony shoulder. Unsteady and feeling like he might fall off, he instinctively he curled his tail around Voldemort's arm though he would prefer if it went around his neck.

Automatically Harry wanted to get off, but it was all to do with Ron and Hermione.

Glaring at the path in front, he watched as Voldemort started moving until he apparated. His body was forced through a tight hole until his vision cleared and another manor appeared before him. It was another manor. It was not a large as Malfoy Manor, but it was still enormous and filled with ancient stone and vines. The lawns were neatly trimmed and the trees moved pleasantly in the breeze. Its appearance did not matter. If it belonged to Bellatrix it could only be an unpleasant place.

Staring down at the ground from Voldemort's height it was unnerving. He was tempted to jump straight off even if he got injured, but he relented and seized common sense and remained where he was.

Voldemort remained quiet which Harry was sure was the only positive thing the monster had ever done in his life.

As Voldemort finally stepped into the house, Harry was tense and seething. It was not helped by the appearance of a familiar dark haired woman who darted out of the side room as the sound of Voldemort's quiet footsteps.

"My Lord!" she explained sick and twisted delight coating every inch of her words as she fell to her knees before Voldemort. "It is an absolute honour to host you in my home. Would you like anything a drink or-"

Voldemort cut her off quickly his blood red eyes trained on the woman before him. "I want to see your prisoners. Weasley and the mudblood."

Her cheeks went slightly pink as her eyes flicked slightly away from Voldemort's. "I- I am sorry, my Lord," she said slowly as if she feared the reaction of her words. "I will of course show you Weasley, but the mudblood died yesterday."

Harry froze. For a long moment time seemed to stop as his eyes widened and he comprehended the news- Hermione was dead; the girl with the bushy hair, amazing brain, big smile and friendly disposition. The person who had been his closest friend along with Ron since he was eleven. She was the one who had allowed them to survive time and time again, but not even that no one could ever be as supporting or as good a friend as her.

Now she was gone.

He forgot he was a snake. He forgot he was powerless. He forgot he had to behave to see Ron. He forgot that he was six and a half feet off the ground.

He only reacted.

Hissing furiously and indiscriminately he shot forward. He was only stopped when he was caught by Voldemort and seized strongly in the neck.

It did not stop him.

His tail flicked and flared rapidly and dangerously as he fought to get at the woman who had killed his best friend.

Bellatrix did not move. Her eyes did widened as she looked up at the hissing and furious snake. "My Lord what-"

"Silence, Bella," Voldemort ordered curtly in English before he flicked to Parseltongue and to Harry. "_Behave, Harry. Do you not want to see your other friend? Your one remaining friend?"_

It took every inch of self control for Harry to not bite Voldemort. His teeth crunched together painfully as he finally went limp in Voldemort's arms.

"_Good," _Voldemort said to Harry until he turned to Bellatrix. "It does not matter. Show me to Weasley. I do not care about mudbloods."

Harry hissed furiously from Voldemort's arms, but Voldemort ignored him this time as Bellatrix stood and gestured to a staircase on the left, her head of messy black hair lowered submissively.

They remained silent as they descended the stairs. Harry grew more and more impatient as he flicked his tail from time to time until they finally reached a thick wooden door which Bellatrix opened swiftly. She bowed her head low and allowed Voldemort to enter before she followed herself.

Harry's eyes did not watch her or even Voldemort. They only focused down on the man in the cell.

Clothed in tattered robes through which Harry could see bloodied and bruised skin, the face was pale though still lined with freckles that were even more prominent,. His red hair was missing chunks as if someone had deliberately cut it out and, when his face rose, his blue eyes were filled with anger and sorrow.

"Good morning, Mr Weasley," Voldemort said softly and calmly without any emotion. "I see you have outlived your mudblood."

Ron reacted immediately. From lying in a pile he darted forward as if he planned to pummel Voldemort with his bare hands.

He only moved a couple of inches before a jet of red light escaped Bellatrix's wand. As the Cruciatus Curse surged through his body he screamed and writhed in pain.

Harry could not sit still. _"Ron!" _he screamed in the serpentine language as he attempted to bite Voldemort, Bellatrix or anyone. Any attempts were stopped when Voldemort's long thin, but powerful fingers gripped his neck. _"Stop!"_

Voldemort did not do anything. He only clutched Harry and watched with merciless eyes until Bellatrix ended the curse.

"You should learn to behave Weasley. You might just get caught."

"Fuck you," he sneered obviously trying to resist trying to attack Voldemort again.

Voldemort only sneered and did not seem interested. Instead he only looked to Harry. "_Here you are, Harry. I am true to your word. You wanted to see your friend and now you see him."_

It was hardly the meeting Harry had envisaged but the man before him was still Ron.

"_Ron," _Harry murmured softly his snake eyes wide and pitying. "_It's me. It's Harry."_

He did nothing. Ron only continued to glare at Voldemort and did not look at the snake in Voldemort's arms.

"_Ron!" H_arry screamed again. "_Ron please!"_

There was no reaction. Ron did not understand the words that were in Parseltongue.

Everything fell around Harry as his situation dawned on him.

No one could understand him.

Only Voldemort could.

"Would you like to punish him, My Lord?" Bellatrix inquired from behind Voldemort's shoulder. Voldemort turned and looked at his servant with approval.

"No, not today, Bella. We are done."

Harry wanted today they were done. He wanted to scream and holler to Ron to just tell his friend it would be alright and he was here.

He could not.

)o(

"_Do you now see my pet?"_ Voldemort hissed his voice strangely pleased as they walked up the path to Malfoy Manor. _"Do you see what this really means?"_

Harry did.

He had been foolish to believe that Voldemort would take him to see his friend merely because he owed it to him or as a reward.

That was not Voldemort.

The cold, cruel, inhuman monster only did things because he wanted to and because he had a reason for his every action.

This one was obvious.

"_He can't understand me," _he murmured in Parseltongue from where he was perched on Voldemort's shoulder. _"No one can."_

"_Good my pet."_

Harry did not even flinch when Voldemort's inhuman fingers stroked the top of his head.

It was hopeless.

There was no one left.

There was only Voldemort.

)o(

Voldemort smirked in satisfaction from where he stood before the fire. The glow of the flames cast an eerie glow around his tall thin figure as he stared at the serpentine body coiled by his feet. The snake did not do anything. Its eyes were closed and it was sleeping.

It had given up.

Potter had given up.

He knew he would. He knew Potter would concede eventually. He did not possess his abilities. He could go through life without anyone. He would not care that no one could understand him and that he could not connect to anyone because of a language barrier.

Potter did.

Potter was like everyone else who needed some form of human connection. When it was all pulled away he had to cling to something.

That something was him.

It was not to say it was based on any affection or even any positive feelings. Voldemort knew Potter still hated him, but that only amused him more.

For all his abilities and for all his feelings Potter had been boxed into a corner.

It was perfect.

Casting another amused stare at the snake before him, he stepped over him and headed to the door. Walking over the threshold he did not even close the door.

Potter would not flee.

In the end, Voldemort was right.


End file.
